


Deliverance

by lrceleste



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Smut, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-07-27 13:03:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7619164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lrceleste/pseuds/lrceleste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesse knew he should have declined the job as soon as Winston had said it would be on a train -given his track record- but he couldn’t exactly turn down his first solo mission since Overwatch had reformed. Granted, things could have gone worse, but given the assassin Jesse now had to deal with it could have gone a whole lot better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Attempt

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to give a shout out to [xerphena](http://xerphena.tumblr.com/) for being a great beta!

Jesse knew he should have declined the job as soon as Winston had said it would be on a train, but he couldn’t exactly turn down his first solo mission since Overwatch had reformed. He was just about done with sitting in a break room waiting for something to come alone, it was seemingly harmless enough however he had a track record for things going at least somewhat wrong the moment he stepped onto the metal death traps; and something that was usually a little more than a delay.

There was a target on board, not one of his, a tip had been received speaking of an assassin, who if the tip was to be believed, was far too skilled for the mediocre security. That was why he was stepping in, to put an end to the assassination attempt even if their source hadn’t been able to give the assassin a name. It was better safe than sorry considering the trouble Tracer had been in only a week before however he wasn’t official support, so what he was doing was damn near illegal. That did mean though that there were no government rules or regulations to adhere to; the way he liked it.

The target was a scientist, not an overwatch one. He had no idea what kind, probably would have been smart of him to read the debriefing more thoroughly, but waking twenty minutes before the trains departure didn’t allow for that. Debrief or no debrief, three guards and two heavily armoured omnics spread about the carriage suggested he’d most likely gotten the right place.

“Mind if I sit here?” He asked a gentleman sitting at one of the only tables that wasn’t also occupied by a guard.

“Be my guest,” was the reply despite the man sounded less than pleased with Jesse’s presence, not bothering to look up from his tablet.

Once seated Jesse removed his hat, combing fingers through his hair as he looked around the carriage, evidently the scientist was the small woman pressed into a table seat with three burly men all dressed in black suits, likely government officials. There had to be something inside her head that somebody didn’t want out in the open.

“So, where ya heading to?” McCree asked the man he had sat across from and received a quick glance over this time, the man ran his eyes over McCree with a raised eyebrow.

“Why?” he finally asked, seemingly done with his appraisal of Jesse.

“Just thought it would pass the time, odds are we’re both gonna be here a while. I’m McCree, friends call me Jesse.”

The man across from him sighed and placed his tablet on the table between them. Jesse had a chance to study him, black hair greying a little at the temples, long enough to pull back. Clothing that barely covered him, showing a tattoo that covered the majority of the exposed part of his chest and left arm.

“Well, McCree,” the man said slowly, “I am Hanzo and I hope to leave this train as soon as possible.”

“Hey, if you didn’t want me sitting here you could have said.” Jesse replied an odd mixture of offence and amusement colouring his voice. Had he known a Hanzo before?

“It is not that,” Hanzo corrected, “there is another reason.”

“Not too fond of travelling?” Hanzo gave a quiet hum that sounded like an agreement. “Well me too, just don’t get on with trains.”

“So, where are you going?”

“Not too sure yet, see where I get taken.”

“Perhaps your lacklustre planning does not help your dislike of transport,” Hanzo suggested as the train finally pulled away from the station.

Jesse laughed, “Yeah, might just be a part of it.”

Scanning the inhabitants of the cabin, no one looked like they were planning to immediately get up and shoot someone. Hell, none of them looked like they could actually fire a gun let alone be a trained assassin, but maybe that was part of the job, odds are if you looked like an assassin you’d never be able to get the job done.

“So what’s the tattoo?” Jesse asked as he turned back to Hanzo, gesturing to the blue and gold that wrapped around the man’s entire arm in one intricate sleeve.

“It’s a tradition in my family,” Hanzo answered, looking again to his tablet.

“Must have taken a while, all that ink?”

“You would be correct to assume that.”

They were silent for a moment before Jesse muttered, “I wouldn’t fancy showing mine like that.”

“Are they inappropriate?” Hanzo asked to McCree’s surprise, he hadn’t realised he’d said it loud enough to hear.

“Nah, they’re just in areas only a lover should see.”

Hanzo raised a thick eyebrow slowly, looking over McCree once more, “Was that supposed to be an offer?”

The expression on Hanzo’s face was perfectly placid -neutral- no inclination to the positive or negative as Jesse spluttered, “What?! No-… Well, I suppose it depends on what the answer would be,” Jesse corrected as he returned the quick glance over Hanzo in his entirety. Probably about the same age, muscular, attractive, it had been a while.

“Unfortunately I’m here on business,” Hanzo replied, a sly smile still visible as he held up his tablet to almost cover his face. The speakers overhead announcing that they’d be reaching the next station soon.

Jesse grinned, well that was a hidden yes if ever he saw one. He opened his mouth to ask again where Hanzo was getting off, but he too was on business, business that could cost someone their life. With a sigh he instead said: “Listen, Hanzo, you seem like a decent guy, if I were you I’d get off at this stop.”

“Why?” Hanzo asked, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, the tone in McCree’s voice evidently not the one he had been anticipating.

“Just trust me on this, something’s going to kick off and you probably don’t want to be here for it.”

Hanzo looked to Jesse for a moment, face relaxing as he nodded and stood, completely understanding, reaching into the luggage rack as Jesse checked yet again on the state of the carriage. When Jesse turned back to Hanzo he barely had time to register what was happening, the man stood before him, bow in hand, arrow in place and pointing at, well shit… Pointing at the scientist.

With less than a second of reasoning available Jesse launched himself at Hanzo’s middle, knocking over the assassin and hearing the thunk of an arrow embedding itself into the roof of the train, a few yells, and the rattling as the bow flew out of the archer’s hands and skidded along the floor. Jesse looked down to the brown eyes glaring up at him, and realised later how inappropriate it was that the words that slipped from his mouth before the usual spiel for an arrest were: “If you wanted me on top of you all you had to do was say yes.”

“Got off me!” Hanzo yelled, kicking McCree back with a swift foot to the stomach, the train’s stall at the station adding insult to the injury as, winded, he was flung onto his back, the samurai wiggling out from under what remained of McCree’s grip. As his breath returned Jesse climbed to his feet rather unsteadily and found Hanzo fighting to leave the train amidst the chaos of the attempted assassination.

As a couple of the armed guards headed in pursuit, Jesse dashed for the other exit. He grabbed his hat from the table, before managing to push aside the confused commuters and jumping from the train against his body’s complaints. There was only one way out of the station, and Jesse had the advantage of looking somewhat like a bystander as he pushed through the crowd, all torn between fighting for their place on the train and fleeing from the screaming that was still ringing behind him.

Jesse’s feet took a moment to come to a complete stop as he searched for the man, a black ponytail with grey specks bobbing quickly amongst the crowd. He ignored the protests of both commuters and his legs as he pushed free of the crowds of bodies and the clutter of the station, following a fluttering gold ribbon disappearing down an alley. His hands fumbled with his comm as he pulled it from his pocket and requested for whatever backup was available in the area. It wasn’t like the old Overwatch, he could never be sure if anyone would arrive.

Distracted it was too late when the body jumped from a side street, a foot flying into his side and his body slamming against a wall.

“What in god’s name are your feet made of?” McCree groaned, hand gripping his side.

“Carbon fiber,” Hanzo answered as he turned away.

“That would explain it,” McCree grumbled as he pulled a flashbang from his belt and aimed it at the slowly retreating samurai.

He was used to the ringing in his ears, to the flash against his closed eyelids, and the effect it had on one’s senses but it was evident from the way Hanzo staggered before him that the man certainly was not, and it caused the moment of pause Jesse needed to gather his wits, pull the cuffs from his pocket and fit them onto the man’s wrists.

-

“So, Hanzo, assuming that’s your real name, who sent you? Talon?” Hanzo simply shrugged, his hands cuffed behind his back, the bumps in the road up to the watchpoint sending them both swaying back and forth as they sat across from one another in an old van, “who are you working for?”

“I have learnt that in the line of work where your employers are willing to hire an assassin it is best not to ask too many questions.”

“So you don’t know why you had to kill a target surrounded by armed guards?” Jesse asked.

“I told you I didn’t ask questions; though if I had been told there would be so much security I may have reconsidered. So, who do you work for, the government?” Hanzo replied smoothly.

“Nah, we ain’t anything official anymore,” Jesse answered, receiving a raised eyebrow, “If you’d asked that question a decade ago you would have gotten a different answer.”

They fell into silence once again, the driver, a nameless agent that McCree had never met before, arrived in minutes after Jesse had sent out the call slowing the van on their ascent up the road in need of major repair work.

“Say, I’ve got this Japanese friend maybe you know him?” Jesse said after a moment.

“Say, I know an American man, perhaps you’re familiar?” Hanzo shot back quickly.

“Hey, just wondering because of the whole family-tradition-dragon-tattoo-thing, didn’t mean to offend ya,” Jesse explained as he held his hands up in a sign of surrender, even if Hanzo was the one in cuffs.

“He has a tattoo?”

“Wouldn’t know, he hasn’t got much of a body to speak of, but his family’s big on dragons.”

“Not much of a-… A cyborg?”

“Yeah! So you do know him?!” McCree exclaimed.

“So this must be Overwatch?” Hanzo laughed, “I’ll admit I expected more.”

“Yeah we ain’t doing too good at the minute, what with the lack of funding and the fact that we’re not officially a legal organisation and all…”

“Of all the places in the world, I end up here… You can release me.”

“Yeah… Ain’t gonna happen.”

Hanzo fell into silence, staring at what was visible of the road ahead through the front windscreen which was little what with the dark of night drawing in, the northern watchpoint was one of the more homely ones, the USA being base for a lot of agents. But like all of the watchpoints it had fallen into disrepair, there was only so much a handful of members could do with a complete lack of funding.

When the van finally came to a stop McCree flung open the doors and jumped from the vehicle, glad to stretch out the aches in his body, it had been a longer ride than he could remember, he was only thankful they hadn’t been a few stops further. The old metal building before him was overgrown, no lights apparent in the old facility, and he could only hope there was juice left in one of the old generators.

“I can’t stay,” The agent stated, merely winding down his window to speak.

“So I’m supposed to stay here with an assassin for how long?”

The woman shrugged, “main base said they’ll send out a jet as soon as they have one free.”

“There only is one jet at main base,” Jesse complained.

“Then you’d best hope it’s free.” She replied apathetically.

With a sigh Jesse ducked around to the back of the van. “Best make ourselves comfortable then.”

Hanzo stepped from the van, hands still linked behind his back as he fell into step a few feet behind the cowboy. “I really expected more. When I was young Overwatch ended the Omnic crisis.”

“Yeah, same here, but sometimes things aren’t what they appear on the outside, like I’m hoping this place’ll be. Either way, it’s home for a little while.”


	2. North Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse and Hanzo arrive at the northern base

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who left kudos or bookmarked this fic, it always means a lot to me! I'm sorry that I don't reply to comments but I have anxiety and it can be a little daunting at times, but know that I really really appreciate you taking the time to write out that you're enjoying the fic, and they can honestly make my day and encourage me to keep on writing!

Hanzo had protested, but to McCree’s surprise not violently, when Jesse had placed him in a cell for the night. The assassin had argued that there was an entire base and yet he was being thrown in a box room. Hell though, it was probably an entire base that Hanzo could escape from easily.

It was longer than McCree would have hoped before he found the generator and figured out how to turn on the damn thing, it had probably been made by Winston. The upside of that was the fact that all of the lights immediately jumped to life, they’d probably been storing sunlight for the last decade. The place looked worse in the light, but it was better than fumbling around in the dark.  Thankfully the kitchen had been cleared of perishables, just cans left that were still barely within date.

His prisoner wasn’t too happy with a bowl full of lukewarm beans that Jesse had just and so managed to warm on the stove, but compared to some of the things he’d been forced to eat in his lifetime it was dam near a luxury. The beds were just as he remembered, a little too far the wrong side of soft, but it was nostalgic being on the dreadful old Overwatch beds they’d had in the old bases, and the ones they’d brought back when things had first started to go downhill. Yeah, it was _almost_ like old times, if old times had been just as god damn lonely as the years after.

-

Jesse woke with a start, the ringing in his ears persisting even after he opened his eyes to bright morning sunlight, even after the gun shot had been a figment of his imagination. He turned slowly to his comm, the device moving across the bedside table with the power of its vibrations, its sharp ringing continuing on.

Pressing the button he winced when the result was a shrill, “G’morning luv!”

“How are you so chipper, isn’t it 7am?” Jesse groaned. Tracer had never been the best morning companion.

“I’ve already checked and it’s then-thirty at the northern base. Have a brew, that’ll set you right.”

“I might need something a little stronger.”

“You better hadn’t,” Tracer scolded, and Jesse could hear the shift in her voice, when her usual cheerful veneer slipped for a moment to reveal the concern.

“Don’t worry,” Jesse said as he held the comm between ear and shoulder, searching the floor for the clothes he had tossed there the night before.

“Anyway, I was ringing to say it’s going to be a day before we can get there. There’s something urgent we have to attend to out in Numbani but we haven’t been briefed yet.”

“I’ll let the assassin know he has to spend a day here alone with me then,” Jesse sighed as he managed to pull on his trousers whilst managing to hold the device in its precarious position.

“Talk to you later then, yeah?”

“Yeah, see ya soon,” Jesse agreed as he ended the call and pulled on his shirt.

The kitchen still had a couple of essentials, a kettle and microwave, some coffee granules that seemed drinkable (he’d had worse) and necessary utensils. As he stood against the counter, looking out of the kitchen window -facing a stretch of trees in the little forest the base was trying to hide in- he pondered over how he could spend the next two days. His communicator still worked out in the middle of nowhere- Winston’s ingenuity no doubt- but the in base communications seemed dead and gone, fixing them and getting the base to a liveable state would likely take more than one man and more than one day. With that in mind Jesse grabbed a second mug, running it under the tap before filling it up with what remained of the coffee, and headed for the only locked cell in the small holding area.

“Morning buttercup!” Jesse chirped as he pulled open the door to Hanzo’s cell, receiving a groan and little else, laughing as if he hadn’t been in the same condition less than an hour before hand. “I got a call this morning, woke me up, but I thought you might like to know what’s gonna happen to ya.”

“What time is it?!” Hanzo asked instead, pulling the blanket over his head, his hair loose and splayed over the pillow.

“Well it’s just about high noon.”

Hanzo turned in the standard issue bed; the same one McCree had been sleeping in the night before, and groaned again, “Could you not tell the time like a normal man?”

“If you manage to spend a couple of days with me you’ll learn the answer to that is no. Head honchoes say you’ll get to spend at least one here before they can send a pilot our way.”

“I have to spend another night in this bed?!”

“Yup, I’m staying in one too if that makes you feel better. Also I brought you a coffee.”

Hanzo perked up slightly at that, muttering a thank you as he accepted the mug and took a sip. His face twisted in disgust, but he drew a second mouthful from the cup. “This would not have been my first choice, but it will do.”

“Glad I could help,” Jesse said, fingers itching to tip the hat he’d left on the floor of the room he’d claimed. “I figured I’d come down and keep you company, no reason for you to be lonely.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I have spent a long time in solitude, you need not bother yourself.”

“Alright then let me put it differently, it’s gonna be a long day so I’m imposing my company on you.”

Looking over the man before him Jesse could only appreciate the muscles on display with the blanket wrapped around Hanzo’s waist, chest exposed. The rest of his visible body was clean, no more ink, just the intricate pattern spiralling down his left arm. Damn the guy was so far out of Jesse’s league they might as well have been playing a different game.

“So, I knew there was a reason you rang a bell. Hanzo- your Genji’s brother, ain’t ya?” Jesse asked to break the silence and bring his own attention away from the way Hanzo’s tattoo moved when he lifted the mug to his lips. “That’s, uh-… That’s why I was asking questions yesterday, it was a long day though.”

“You’re a friend of his?” Hanzo asked instead of answering.

“I’d sure like to think so.”

“Was he happy?” Hanzo asked. His voice carried no emotion as he stared down at what little remained of his drink. McCree wasn’t sure what he’d expected from this man, knowing what he did. That Hanzo was related to the cyborg he called a friend, or that he was the ex-leader of an illegal organisation bigger than deadlock could have ever hoped to be, it felt almost as if the two roles couldn’t exist within the same person.

“He struggled, but last I heard he was happy,” Jesse explained.

“I am glad,” Hanzo replied placing his mug on the metal bedside table, even if his voice carried no indication of happiness.

“Y’know,” Jesse began taking the mug from the table, “I’m probably going to regret this, but how about you come help me out?”

“I thought I was your prisoner?”

“Yer Overwatch’s prisoner technically, but I figured you’d want out of this cell.”

“What are the conditions?” Hanzo asked, an eyebrow raised in scepticism.

“Hey I don’t need no conditions. Not when I know I can shoot you in the ankles and not feel too guilty about it,” Jesse admitted looking down at Hanzo’s legs, the prosthetics looked expensive but he was sure a mob boss could afford to replace them.

-

Hanzo was a decent worker, not precisely what Jesse had expected. The day was spent with sleeves rolled up working down the list of things that were wrong with the base. Their conversation was more of a monologue, Hanzo unbelievably less talkative when he wasn’t planning to assassinate someone. Either that or Hanzo still had plans and Jesse shouldn’t have let his guard down so easily.

“So how come you’re a hired assassin anyway? I thought you were meant to be the heir to a gang or something,” Jesse asked in an attempt to draw Hanzo into the conversation.

“I was the kumichō of the Shimada’s for a short time. I decided that life was not for me.”

“You mean because you…” Jesse stopped when Hanzo turned and glared at the cowboy.

“You seem to have the upper hand,” Hanzo admitted, “I know nothing of you seen as for a man who will not stop speaking you say very little of worth.”

“Well I have been told I’ve got more hot air in me than a gas pocket in an oil field.”

Hanzo looked up at McCree for a moment, placing the crate in his arms on the floor. “What?”

“I- Well it’s just… Forget it,” Jesse suggested as he dropped his own crate in the store room at the back of the base. “You would have thought they’d have enough time to put a delivery away considering Overwatch was crumbling for over a year.”

“What are in these boxes?”

Swallowing away a new found lump in his through Jesse said, “Definitely not weapons.”

“Do not worry I don’t plan on killing you,” Hanzo said with a short laugh, his face immediately returning to the emotionless expression McCree was becoming used to. “I would have done it in the alley, or whilst you slept.”

“That’s comforting… And mighty disconcerting if I’m honest.”

A small smile formed on Hanzo’s lips, the first in Jesse’s presence. The cowboy stood for a moment, tipping back his hat and whistling low at the way it changed the assassins face. Sure the guy was attractive, but _damn,_ when the corner of his eyes creased slightly like that, full lips turned up at the corners just a little he was really something to behold.

“Do not push your look cowboy, I still have time to change my mind,” Hanzo warned as he turned away, his voice was stern but Jesse could see the vestige of the smile.

“Sure thing sweetheart.”


	3. The Pick-Up

_Jesse’s palm was sweaty as he gripped peacekeeper tighter to compensate for the fact. His finger was poised on the trigger ready to fire at any moment. Blackwatch missions like this could turn in a matter of seconds, the warehouse might have looked void of life but that didn’t mean it was._

_Kagiso held herself the same way, eyes scanning over the goods stacked either side of them as they pressed on slowly. Reyes gave the signal to split and continued to stalk forward. Kasigo took a left through the rows of shelves when Jesse headed right, it was only her first mission in the more covert sector of Overwatch but she was doing well._

_The crates that surrounded him weren’t marked, no shipping labels or distinction. Whatever was inside was most likely the reason they were there._

_“2 o’clock,” Kasigo announced urgently over the communicators._

_Weapon raised Jesse caught the flash of movement and fired, hearing the cry of pain as his shot hit its target.  He stood straight, heading towards the downed body. There was only a quiet rattle to his left to indicate that anything had been thrown, before the explosion threw him backwards, ears ringing, mind racing._

Jesse sat bolt upright, sweat soaked, and his hand gripping the bicep of his other arm, running fingers down to the scar there, over what remained of his arm after removing the prosthetic. A rustle to the left and Jesse instinctively swung his fist at the darkness. The intruder jumped aside, most definitely not a figment of his imagination.

“McCree!” The voice cried when a hand caught Jesse’s in his second attempt at landing a punch.

After a moment’s pause to collect his thoughts, the pitch black room finally came into focus, Jesse cautiously asked, “Hanzo? How in hell did you get here?”

“The outer window is not well protected so I scaled the wall out of the cell. When I heard you shouting I assumed you were being attacked.”

“Shit, sorry for that, it happens sometimes,” Jesse apologised.

“I understand,” Hanzo admitted before turning to leave the room, “I will leave you to your sleep.”

“Thanks,” Jesse sighed, doubting that he would be able to sleep as easily as Hanzo had made it sound.

Still he lay back and closed his eyes hoping that maybe sleep would claim him but his attempts were interrupted almost instantly by the beeping of his communicator.

“Morning hun,” Tracer yelled in her usually chipper voice.

“Okay, now you know that it’s too early for this,” Jesse groaned.

“Don’t worry you can get back to sleep soon,” She promised, “Numbani’s all wrapped up and ETA is in seven hours.”

“That was a short mission?” Jesse asked in concern.

“Yeah, a few rogue omnics,” Tracer admitted sadly, “All we could do was terminate them.”

“Ah crap, the worst missions are the ones where you can’t help.”

“Yeah,” Tracer agreed, “But yours went okay at least, and now I can give you a personal escort. I’ll see ya then!”

“Can’t wait for it,” Jesse sighed as he cut the connection and returned to his attempts to sleep.

Wait, what in the hell was Hanzo doing out of cell?!

-

When the craft finally landed they were already waiting on the landing strip, Hanzo void of the cuffs he had been in when they had arrived. The night before had shown that had the samurai wished to escape he’d had plenty of opportunity to whilst McCree had been sleeping.

The door lowered slowly, giving Lena more than enough time to leave her seat in the cock pit and blink into existence before McCree, an occurrence that still made him jump no matter how many times he experienced it. Lena’s arms were immediately flung around Jesse’s neck her feet dangling above the ground as she giggled. Jesse’s arms instinctively held her up, his own laugh joining the mixture.

“It’s been too long!”

“Ya bet it has,” Jesse agreed before placing Lena gently on the ground and following her aboard the craft, motioning for Hanzo to follow.

“Welcome aboard Agent McCree,” Athena announced as he entered the ship.

“Aw Athena you remember me,” Jesse laughed as he looked around the ship, “Surprised you recognise me after so long. Did you miss me?”

“You are still smoking,” Athena stated in the usual voice that only just shifted away from being monotone.

“Yeah, missed you too,” Jesse grumbled.

“So are you taking after y’know- the old commander?” Tracer laughed, stopping when she saw the disgust on Jesse’s face, “I- I just meant picking up strays from dodgy places.”

Jesse glanced over at Hanzo, taking a seat at the table in the corner of the ship. “I can live with that.”

“News came in that the scientist got to her hotel room in Colorado just fine.”

“So can I know why somebody wanted her dead enough to hire this guy?” McCree asked, gesturing over his shoulder to Hanzo who was listening with crossed arms.

“You didn’t read the brief?” Tracer asked.

“I, uh, misplaced it,” Jesse lied watching the roll of Lena’s eyes.

With a sigh Tracer announced to the air, “Athena, tell him.”

“Fadilah El-Amin is an Omnic engineer who rehabilitates Omnics that have experienced damage to their systems,” Athena stated, “El-Amin recently announced plans to release a paper containing previously unknown information she had uncovered whilst reconfiguring a T81-b unit. She stated that the information could revolutionise the way the world perceives Omnics.”

“What could she possibly discover?” Hanzo asked, “Omnics have been around for almost half a century, surely their capabilities have been fully unearthed.”

“Apparently not,” Lena admitted before adding, “I’m sorry I don’t know your name.”

“Hanzo Shimada.”

“Shimada?” Lena asked with a smile, “Well what are the odds we have two-…” There was a slow moment of dawning realisation, and Jesse had the joy and fear of watching her face go through every step of the process until she rounded on the cowboy with as close to a scowl as Jesse had ever seen on her face. “McCree could we um, have a chat in private?”

After a quick glance in Hanzo’s direction Jesse followed Tracer up to the cock-pit. Lena sat in the pilot’s seat, flicking the necessary switches and preparing for take-off. Her voice was as stern as she could make it when she asked, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Genji’s been doing well since he came back, he’s in a relationship, he seems like a different guy. You’re getting the guy who basically murdered him to join Overwatch.”

“Nobody said Hanzo was gonna join, that’s a decision for later, for all we know he didn’t kill me because he’s playing the long game. Either way the mission was to apprehend the assassin and bring them back to base, I’m filling orders.”

“I suppose he could be useful in taking down what’s left of the Shimada’s,” Lena admitted.

“Only as useful as Genji I’d guess, it sounds like the guy left after he was forced to kill his brother.”

“Well then I guess we can only hope he’s on our side since we’re going to main base.”

“Speaking of which, where is main base now that Switzerland is out of commission?” Jesse asked.

“Athena set destination for the Gibraltar Watchpoint.”

“Charting course for Watchpoint: Gibraltar,” Athena acknowledged.

“Finally, a chance to get a tan,” Jesse sighed.

“Wouldn’t count on it luv,” Lena laughed, “I’m pretty sure Winston already has something lined up for you.”

-

The flight was fast, the technology invested into Overwatch still at their command even if their legitimacy had been taken from them. It was at least ten minutes after touchdown before McCree was able to introduce Hanzo, old friends and long awaited reunions getting in the way. Notably the solid three minutes he needed when Reinhardt lifted him from the ground and hugged him, squeezing all breath from his body. The mothering Angela gave to him about the information Athena had sent ahead, about how he was likely short of breath as a result of his habits was expected, familiar, but she hugged him regardless. The hand shake Fareeha gave him turned into a smile and a hug when Jesse told her how much she’d grown (even if she had been close to finished growing by the time Jesse had left Overwatch.) The way he had to bend to lift Torbjorn into a hug despite the way the old engineer grumbled and called him a hooligan.

Some new faces had joined the crowd, two kids that couldn’t be far off the age he’d been when he’d joined Blackwatch; A young Korean woman who had come complete with MEKA lifted from the Korean government, but she could pilot damn well if what the guys were saying was to be believed and a freedom fighter from Bazil they’d picked up in Numbani, along with technology stolen straight from a global organisation. Seemed like the whole picking up outlaws ethos still prevailed.

“No Blackwatch guys?” Jesse asked, even if he had been anticipating just as much.

“I put out the call to all Overwatch operatives on record, you are the only one from Blackwatch who responded,” Winston explained.

“Not surprised in all honesty, just thought that maybe some of the guys would have been there for the right reason after all.”

“It’s up to you if you want to make a new Blackwatch now,” Reinhardt enthused, “You can make it better than before!”

“Already picking up criminals,” Mercy tutted though there was a smile on her lips, “You would make a perfect Blackwatch commander.”

“How now there was nothing about that in the recall so I won’t take you up on that offer just yet partner, we’ve got more pressing issues, like said criminal. This is Hanzo Shimada.”

Jesse watched the mixed reaction from Lucio the unknowing recruit shouting a cheerful, “Hey,” to the scowl that immediately marred Angela’s features.

“Hanzo would you mind coming with me?” Angela asked, sweet smile returning.

Once they had left the room Tracer sighed, “I hope you weren’t overly attached to him.”


	4. 水に流す

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let it flow in the water - "Forgive and Forget"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, sorry it's been so long, I've been having pc trouble, health trouble, house trouble, family trouble, you name it I've been having an issue with it over the past weeks. But there's finally a chapter done and dusted, even if it's one I've been struggling with.

The room that the Doctor led him to was white and sterile with accents of mint, a typical doctor’s office in the middle of a facility that had supposedly been shut down by the government almost a decade ago.

“Take a seat,” the Doctor ordered and Hanzo followed her instruction even as she remained out of his vision, “I’m Angela Zeigler, and you may not know me but I am aware of you.”

“I imagine you are an acquaintance of my brothers?”

“I am, and I will be completely honest with you Shimada,” Dr Zeigler explained, voice emotionless, “You will not be much liked around here. We are all aware of what you did, I far more than some.”

“I did not come seeking your approval.” He knew he did not deserve it.

“Very well, so long as we are all reading from the same page.” She stood before Hanzo, a hand on the back of his seat and her blue eyes piercing. “My friends will tell you I do not condone violence, but for you I could be pressed to make an exception, am I understood?”

“Why don’t you end me now?” Hanzo hissed, unmoving even under the doctor’s glare.

“It’s- not my position to decide that,” The doctor stuttered as she stepped away from the chair. “Despite my feelings I am always professional. All visitors to the watchpoint, be them agents or detainees, require a thorough health check.”

“I will have to decline.”

Zeigler pulled a latex glove onto her hand, rubbery material snapping against her wrist as she stated, “Mister Shimada, did my tone of voice suggest it was optional?”

-

“There have been rumours,” Genji began and McCree swallowed away the mouthful of food he’d been preparing to savour after living off rations and damned beans. The cyborg pulled a seat from across the table in the small mess hall. “That you have brought a new recruit?”

“Now nothing’s set in stone.” Even if the entirety of the team had simply assumed there was no harm in adding another criminal to the roster, a new bow had already been made to replace the one Hanzo had been forced to leave behind.

“You know that’s not what I’m asking,” Genji laughed and McCree could almost imagine a smile under the metal façade, on a face he’d never seen. “The rumours say he’s the ex-head of a criminal organisation, a Japanese man who-”

“Alright it’s your damn brother,” Jesse admitted in a huff, “Why d’ya do this to me Genj? You just like torturing me don’t ya?”

“It was you who started it,” Genji argued with a laugh.

“I stole one damn box of pocky ten years ago. I thought you were supposed to have been enlightened by some monks?”

“You retaliated after I had avenged my limited edition rainbow snack, you began the war, but that is beside the point. I just wanted to say that I am pleased you brought him here, and that I am glad he’s following my advice for once. Being amongst friends can do wonders for the soul.”

“Wait, did you suggest he become an assassin?”

Genji was silent for a moment before muttering something under his breath that Jesse didn’t understand, “Where is he?”

“Far as I know he’s trying out the new bow of his.”

“We will catch up later,” Genji insisted as he stood and quickly left the room.

When Genji eventually found Hanzo the elder Shimada was on the training range, firing arrows into a robot one after another. Even with feet that had been designed with silence in mind Hanzo lowered his bow the moment Genji stepped out onto the range, a sigh slipping from Hanzo’s lips, “I wondered when you would come.”

“I am glad you have decided to stay.”

“I have not decided at all, apparently the decision was not mine to make,” Hanzo hissed.

“You know as well as I brother that had you a desire to leave, you would not be here.”

Hanzo laughed, a sharp bitter thing, “How was I such a fool? Your voice is different but… I can hear Genji in it.” A diversion.

“Hanzo,” Genji sighed, “I understand how you must feel-”

“No you do not,” Hanzo growled as he turned to the cyborg, knuckles white with the grip he held on his bow, “If you knew my feelings you would not have offered your forgiveness so easily.”

“I know that you have been searching so hard for redemption, but this is your chance. Overwatch are a just cause, they have helped many find their calling. If it is any consolation your forgiveness was not so easily found.”

With that same bitter laugh Hanzo turned away, releasing an arrow into one of the training bots and watching it fall to the ground. “I am not a good man; you would do well to remember that.”

A pause, and then the quiet footsteps retreated. Hanzo had always been able to sense his brother, even if his senses had been fooled, it was a stab in the heart to realise it was still the case, whether it was the dragons or a skill learned from a young age. From years of reflecting sneak attacks, a young boy with short black hair, chopped short by their mother after the hundredth occurrence of Genji returning home with it in knots and covered in filth from a day spent exploring instead of training.

Hair that had passed through a range of colours, all of which their father disapproved of, before eventually falling on a green bright enough to offend eyes, certainly enough for Hanzo to spot him as he jumped around a corner with the intent of stealing Hanzo’s dessert. Genji had never played by the rules of the elders; punishment could not sway him from his path, more than enough skill to be deadly but enough heart to decide against the course chosen for him. Hanzo had never been strong enough to decide his own fate.

“Hanzo,” The southern drawl interrupted his thoughts, his bow held high, arrow nocked and bowstring pulled. Yet he hadn’t loosed one in so long that his fingers were beginning to ache. Instead of firing he carefully slacked the bowstring, leaving the arrow in place.

With a sigh he turned to the cowboy and stated, “I wish to join, but on probation only. I wish to see how you operate.”

“You-… I was just coming out to ask if the new bow was any good. You mean it? We are an illegal organisation at the moment; you’d be breaking a helluva lot of laws.”

“I spent my entire life evading the law; it is past time I put my bow to a just cause.”

“Well in that case it better be ready, we’ve already got a mission.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, if you'd like to follow me [my tumblr is butt-watch!](http://butt-watch.tumblr.com/) I'll try to upload every Friday.


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